"Mom I'm sick."- words I often heard through
the growing years
These words hang in the air like illusive may flies
nagging at my ears
My flaying hands swat and miss,
I must keep trying
Laying to waste hurting words which cannot
soothe the crying
Cleanse the body, heal the heart, and strengthen the mind
from damaged emotions drained
Doctors with clinical voices hint at hope
tempered and strained
Bruises, cuts and scrapes the badges of youthful games of
folly and play
Were easy to remedy with a band-aid, a kiss and
bedtime stories of yesterday
Is she too young to join the breastless warriors who must
learn a new coping game?
Hiding secret surgical scars, inhaling scientific concoctions
bearing unspeakable names
This cancer, this demon strikes its' victims
with little warning
Causing endless nights with no sunshine even
in morning
Poison flows through needles without mercy into
veins blue from angry abuse
Wanting it all to stop NOW, to go away
what's the use?
Isn't there a magical cure, a pill, a remedy,
a potent potion?
Perhaps a wizard's spell or an old fashioned
medicine man with sorted secret notions
This diabolical disease is no respecter of persons,
no prejudices to gender or age
Acceptance comes--the fight is on, faith flows in tubes
of toxic liquid replacing rage
Pale blue eyes reveal a glimmer of freedom,
daring to dream again
A bald head shows fuzzy growth as
her new life begins.
FOOTNOTE:
All was in the Master's plan
She thought she had no choice
Turning cannot into can
He gave her soul a true voice
Women will listen, as she strives
To enlighten, saving young lives
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